


As if "Need" Meant a Goddamn Thing

by teprometo



Series: Harry/Draco Last Drabble Writer Standing: Round Two [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Harry/Draco Last Drabble Writer Standing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teprometo/pseuds/teprometo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco didn't know before, and it's too late now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As if "Need" Meant a Goddamn Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 2 of the Second Harry/Draco Last Drabble Writer Standing. The prompt was Gregory’s Unctuous Unction: 200-400 words.
> 
> First posted [here](http://slythindor100.livejournal.com/664595.html).

It had all been so marvellously funny at the beginning. Making Harry believe, really believe, that they were close mates. Parading him about in front of Granger and Weasley, soaking up their outrage.

Draco treated him as he would anyone else, and still Harry beamed and laughed and laid affection on Draco in a way he’d never experienced. He hadn’t intended Gregory’s Unctuous Unction to last, but he had grown attached to that calm look on Harry’s face when, without malice, he said things like, “You’re a git,” and, “I rather despise you.”

Because Draco had forgotten life without Harry’s smile directed at him, without exhilarating broomstick chases and drunken confessions, waking up with Harry’s arm around him and pretending not to notice.

Granger had tried to find the counter-curse, had spent months buried anywhere but in Weasley’s bed with stacks of books and weathered parchment.

She cornered Draco one day, wand held high and steady. “Six months. You’ve one month left.” She lowered her wand and disappeared down the hallway, the faint patter of her footsteps reverberating in Draco.

That night Harry kissed him for the first time. His face was brave and focussed and slightly pink with that adorable shyness he still somehow managed. Draco touched Harry’s hair, clutched at his back, kissed him feverishly, all the time thinking that there was no possible way he could ever swallow enough Harry, breathe in enough of him to satisfy the ravenous need he felt at Harry’s touch, at his throaty sighs.

Neither of them wanted to wait. Harry said it was because he had desired it for so long, and Draco didn’t say that it was because he knew they had so little time. He had planned on keeping Harry’s arse virginal, but when Harry spread his legs for Draco, sliding slicked fingers into his pretty pink hole, Draco decided he’d rather die having tasted everything Harry had to offer.

They spent a month enjoying one another to the fullest extent their bodies could handle. Draco hadn’t known what “beautiful” was until he saw Harry come, hadn’t known the meaning of “cherish” until he wrapped himself around Harry’s almost delicate sleeping form, hadn’t known peace until feeling Harry mouthing inaudible sentiment against his postcoital skin.

By Draco’s calculations, there was only one more night. The horror of it stuck in his stomach like week-old chewing gum.

**Author's Note:**

> **Rather comment on LiveJournal? Join the conversation[here](http://teprometo.livejournal.com/23169.html#comments).**


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